


isle

by vane (Clavain)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, posted for archiving purposes, would not recommend reading
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 07:44:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7609633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clavain/pseuds/vane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>posted for personal archival purposes will make little sense in isolation<br/>more info on these dudes here: http://islian.weebly.com/</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wight & Cori & Wren

**Author's Note:**

> a lot of this isn't canon

**Wight**

 

They had been in the frost and the fog for two days when their follower decided to manifest.

Reven had been admiring Falla’s warm coat and pitying her short legs. He could feel the brutality of the biting wind through Wren, the extension of his soul which he was now painfully aware of. The trek north was slow and agonizing even for chimeras.

In front of them, between the trees, something lurched forward and looked like it was about to overbalance before stumbling backwards. Reven recoiled, Falla backed away, but Cori stood their ground even as it half-fell half-limped towards them. It made a chattering sound like seashells clashing against one another. Reven had never been to the sea and the unexpected surge of the previous occupant of the brain unsettled him.

Wren chirruped and flew _towards_ the moving thing. It had to be a chimera, for no other creature could be so clearly unwhole. Reven had to follow Wren and he saw the pure white creature come into focus.

Its face was a spherical smooth rock, some kind of transparent quartz, with hollows in it where misty red fire glowed apparently serving as eyes. Reven wondered over their functionality. Deer horns, regal and absurd, were thrust from the back of the head, surrounded by a dense mane of fluff which continued down the body. The neck was incredibly long, the body so slender that the balance must surely be aided by some kind of magic, or possibly the two large weighted tails which swung behind it.

It clicked twice, the mouth a ragged zigzag which split its head it two clattering shut and open, and fell onto all fours. The way it moved was quick but unstable, uncoordinated, and although it was not cursed with the bird feet they all suffered through its hind paws were small and its front legs ended in strange and twisted claws.

“This is Wight.” Wren said, and as with everything she said he knew it before she had spoken. “And he is harmless.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Cori**

 

Sometimes Reven wondered if Cori was the only lost chimera. They never talked about their previous life, but they missed flying. He could tell. And Agrippa… he didn’t know what he would do without Wren. Such amputation – surely Fexor would not want to repeat it?

 _Is erasure better?_ Wren was himself but she was still separate, and on the rare occasions she intruded onto his thoughts she surprised him. _Appropriation of the mind. Don’t romanticize Fexor. He created you and left you with me and he gave you wings but he killed a version of you, the first version of you with that brain._

Reven rarely thought about the seraph who had given him life. He tried not to. Wren shifted from her perch in his horns.

“Up ahead!” Cori barked. “The Citadel. We should be able to spend the night here.”

 _How hard will it be for him to see his old friends, soulless here only in part, forced into the vessel of that patchwork walking corpse?_ Wren thought it involuntarily. He hissed but the thought continued, outside of their control. _He was a lord and now he’s half of a construct._

“I summon Oberon.” Cori said it haltingly.

Something large dropped in front of them like a felled tree. There were six black wings, as far as Reven could see, making this member of the Aristocracy incredibly powerful. Commanders were usually avoided, with unbalanced extreme power but none of the wisdom of the Three Morningstars they were taciturn and liable to lash out. A massive Californian condor rested on their shoulder, with all wings outspread they could have been mistaken for a Tsar.

“Chimeras.”  They must be Oberon. “One with a spectre?” They regarded Reven with glowing red eyes.

“We have met. I am second cousin to Fidel and Elys,” Cori did not cower but they looked like they wanted to, which was abnormal. “I retained my memories when I was transformed. I seek to find my spectre, but the area is cold, may we find refuge with you tonight?”

The wings rippled in some display of emotion. “Fexor would not be so cruel.”

They sounded like they did not believe their own words. Wight clicked twice until Falla shushed him. 

“My name is Coriolanus.” 

Maybe there was recognition; maybe there was pity. The condor made a noise.

“You are welcome in the Citadel for a few weeks. Do not overstay.” His gaze fell upon Reven. “I may talk to you later.” 

Wren leapt up to make a reply but was too slow. The wings rippled, Reven knew from residual knowledge that Commanders did not fly with wings but magic, yet they still whirled and twisted as they rose out of sight. He flexed his own wings, temped to attempt a glide, but then remembered Cori and hastily folded them again. 

“Who are Fidel and Elys?” Falla asked as they neared the Citadel. 

“Infidel and Elyswher, both seraphs, are siblings. Elys is Oberon’s mate and Fidel is somewhat the leftover black sheep of the family, but very kind. He interferes with local life in a benevolent way, or did when I was last here.” Their eyes clouded. “I don’t know how much time I lost.” 

There was something missing in memory, for roosting in a tree then awakening as a chimera do not follow. Sometimes Cori wondered if they had been held in limbo for years, or if they had been conscious and the memories had been removed like they had from Reven. 

“Oberon is a warlock, aren’t they?” Falla changed the subject fluently. 

“He is.” Cori confirmed the pronoun for them. “And the dominant of a clan of seven, not a force to be reckoned with. If I were you-” 

Another fluttering thing fell in front of them, this time clearly distinguishable as a seraph, interrupting Cori. They had burnt orange wings curled around them in a way which could be interpreted as defensive, but seemed to be habitual. A kestrel fluttered to rest upon his shoulder. Their eyes were a clouded blue. 

“Cori?” They asked uncertainly, looking at the ragtag group. 

“Fidel!” Cori responded. Wight began clicking again. 

“It’s true?” Fidel recoiled, aghast. “Fexor...” 

“Agrippa is gone?” The kestrel intoned gravely. 

“How long has it been?” Cori’s intensity crushed Reven and he was not even the object of it. “Since that last day we spent together, as I travelled in search of a mate?” 

The seraph looked like he was about to begin crying. “Cori… how did this…” 

“I don’t know. How long?” 

“Years. Maybe ten. Winter has come and passed. We did not search for you, if I had known…” 

“How many did you lose?” Falla interrupted, looking at Cori intently. 

“Nine.” They replied. 

Wren chirruped. In Reven’s head she screamed and screamed _what did he do_ again and again, and it was in this way that Reven came to know how much he felt for Cori and how much he loathed his creator. If he found him Wren would kill him. Otherwise he would. 

“This is Infidel, called Fidel,” Cori began, “This is Revenant, called Reven, and his spectre Wren. This is Fallandriel, called Falla, and this one is called Wight. We do not know his name.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Wren**

 

 _[Revenant]_ Oberon says without speaking and Reven knows, somehow, that Wren is not being addressed in this. _[Your spectre is no ordinary spectre.]_  

Wren flutters her wings in indignation. Reven can keep nothing from her and Oberon’s words would inevitably offend her; it is incredibly rude to willingly try to exclude a spectre from a conversation with their other half. 

“Sorry.” Penumbra, his ugly large bald Californian condor spectre is not apologizing, but she is acknowledging Wren as an equal. Considering their status difference as a warlock and a chimera this means something. 

 _[You don’t have an equal split. It’s like someone extracted elements of your personality and poured them into her, giving you an excess of some qualities and a deficiency of others. You would balance one another, but she took your ability to manipulate and she can hide things from you. I’ve seen your memories, how could you not know your guide was your spectre? You tell yourself that you always knew, but you didn’t.]_  

It’s true enough. Wren almost speaks up, he senses the rise, but then quietens as Oberon continues directly into Reven’s mind. 

_[Your bond is weak and somehow she ended up with the majority of your resolve, cynicism, and strength whilst you have the compassion and trust. It makes you both exceptional individuals; before you were remade as a chimera you must have been truly inspirational. But it leaves you each with weaknesses, the largest of which is that Wren can deceive you and you can turn against yourself.]_

Wren stiffens. Reven doesn’t really feel that betrayed, although he supposes that he should. It’s just that Wren is _him_ , even if she doesn’t consider him _her_. She’s too much a part of him for rejection or even anger. 

“That’s why you will be the victim in the eventual split, Revenant.” Penumbra warns. 

But why would Wren hurt him? It would only hurt her. And there is no way they could split. 

“How did we end up this way?” Wren asks suddenly. 

“No other chimera has a spectre. Coriolanus’s Agrippa is out there somewhere; otherwise they would be a shell, and Falla’s spectre is inside her.” Reven would have to tell her; surely the news that she wasn’t incomplete would be welcome. Oberon continues out loud, “I think you fought your way out when he tried to pour your soul in, like he did with Falla. Only not a spectre made it out, just the elements which fought. These manifested as a spectre.” 

The casual _he_ implies familiarity. “You’ve met Fexor?” Wren is so angry he can feel it and shudders. The anger is foreign to him. 

“Once. He dropped in when I was presented with my third pair of wings in case I became an arch. It was a long time ago and I was young.” 

“The rumours are that he’s gone mad.” The words from Penumbra are rushed, betraying what lies beneath Oberon’s calm exterior. “He’s grafted extra body parts onto himself and runs around killing Aristocracy to take their brains for chimeras, which he then abandons. After what happened to Coriolanus and Agrippa…” 

Oberon lays a hand on Penumbra’s head to hush her. “You have to understand that I must protect my clan at all costs. You cannot stay here for long; I can see your intentions and know that you mean no harm, but Wren’s ruthlessness unsettles me and Fexor could have easily implanted something in you. I’m afraid even Coriolanus will have to move on in the morning. We can offer supplies…” 

“I understand. Thank you.” Reven replies. 

“You are gracious, Revenant.” Penumbra bows her head and exits with Oberon. 

“Wren,” Reven asks after a moment, “you remember more than I do, don’t you?”

“Yes. Not everything, but more.” 

“What was I like before?” 

“You were fierce and protective and glorious. A seraph, but a strong one. You loved flying and I was an osprey. Your name was not Revenant.” She pauses. “I don’t know what it was. That’s it, just emotional traces, no actual events remain.” 

He is not sure if he believes her, but he lets it pass. “Why did you call me Revenant, then?” 

“A Revenant is an animated corpse which comes back to life for a specific purpose, usually to gain revenge on their murderer. Chimeras are not alive.” He knew it because she knew it, but had not made the connection. She looks like she doesn’t want to say the next part, but continues anyway. “I want to kill Fexor.” 

He nods; she’s never been able to hide this from him. “Do you think he has a purpose for us? I’m the only one with a spectre and wings.” 

Her eyes flash. “If he does I will not allow it to pass.” 

Reven wonders if they would have any choice.


	2. AntiGone & Wolves 1 & LuciferElisha

**Antigone**

 

There was a point, a dividing wall, in Reven’s mind where he stopped being Reven and became Wren. She crossed onto his side often and that was natural, comforting, but he never crossed into hers. 

But after Oberon’s warning and Cori’s casual mention of Wren’s manipulative techniques it was natural to wonder why he wasn’t allowed across. He didn’t really want to see her side, that much was true, but every time he thought it the thought slipped away unnaturally quickly. This was enough ground for suspicion, he reassured himself. 

And then, closing his eyes, blocking Wren out by denying himself, he climbed the wall. 

Something fell at his feet: _Antigone_. 

An osprey and a seraph: Antigone. Seraph: Anti. Osprey: Gone. 

Flying for long and far without tiring and diving and swooping and doing any number of things the undignified ball of a wren was incapable of. And a sky – bluer than he has ever seen, around him, cradling him like a mother. Then: parents, the past. 

And after he had pushed past that recollection it’s _different,_ so _different_ from whatever passes as his mind, the cleanliness and light. This is murky and half-remembered and overwhelmingly aches of grief and loss and a lifetime of memories of indecision. It’s complex, the perception is complex and uncomfortable and discontent and restless and just being here makes him want to run and run and never return just to not be _here_ , to detract from this confusion and– 

There’s this intellect, ruthless, a blade so sharp it cuts the hand which wields it. This reason unleashed upon everything, calculating, recalculating, coming up with some kind of viable strategy towards the only clarity in this twisted mind: revenge. He saw himself for the first time not as an individual, began to see Cori’s obsession as leverage over a pawn instead of with his usual compassion. 

Reven had never analysed causation this much, but it’s clear that there were all these contributing factors to his downfall, but there’s one constant root in all of this which burned him with semi-physical flames of unsated rage. Fexor. 

Then there was a push and Reven left her half to forget again. Wren shook her head within; he could never handle it like she could. It was better for him to live how he did. 

Somehow he still shuddered when he came back to physicality, although he didn’t know why.

 

* * *

 

 

**Brush with Wolves**

 

Reven felt Wren suddenly stiffen and saw Regent take to the sky. _Fly_! reached him telepathically only seconds later, overflowing with urgency. 

Fidel sprung vertically into the air, spreading his wings as soon as he was high enough, and flapping to almost-hover, eyes frantically scanning. His light weight allowed him to do this where bulkier angels would have needed to move or fall. Regent hovered beside him. 

Falla and Wight pressed close to Cori, aware that there was a danger but not what it was, and Cori’s tail fluffed up. Wight clicked loudly, once, twice. Wren flew onto a tree branch uncomfortably far away. Reven flapped his wings, but he had eaten and needed height to glide. He joined the others in staying beside Cori.

Then six or seven large well-fed wolves burst from the undergrowth, surrounding them. Wren was out of sight, but they saw Fidel, and he would not abandon them by flying off. Slowly he descended to stand among them, wings outspread aggressively, Regent pressing close to his shoulder in an unconscious expression of fear. 

“Why are you in my territory, soulless ones and seraph?” The lean grey wolf snarled. 

Cori stood tallest out of the chimeras and they spoke. “We are just passing through. None of your prey will be poached and we will be gone as soon as we’re through the forest.” 

“I require a tribute and you to swear allegiance to me against the stags.” 

Wight clicked again. Fidel glanced at Cori and flared his wings slightly more. A nearby wolf flinched. Encouraged, he spoke although as always he did sound like he was apologizing for the words as he spoke, “We are neutral in this conflict. Allow us to pass in the name of Oberon’s Citadel.” 

The name of the warlock should carry weight. But Reven had met Oberon, and he wondered if perhaps it would incite more anger than fear. Wren fluttered next to Regent.

“Wolves do not respect the Aristocracy,” she chirruped into her ear. 

Regent spoke directly, which was an acknowledgement of the wolf as an equal, “We swear to never harm anyone on your side and not rest until we are through your lands.” 

Wren fluttered onto her usual place on Reven’s horns where no one took any notice of her. 

“Seraph,” another wolf warned, “we will accept no less than direct help.” 

“I am no sage,” Fidel apologized. 

The alpha regarded him. “I am Hrothgar, Son of Hrothgar. They are Svendar, Wendigo, Ishmael, Ruri, and Falen.” 

“I am Infidel and Suregent. They are Coriolanus, Revenant, Fallandriel, Wight, and Wren. We will pass.” 

“Is that a threat?” Svendar snarled, stepping forward with teeth bared. 

Wren replied, “No threat is meant. What help is it exactly that you require?” 

 _We’re clever_ , Wren told Reven, _always_ _play on the pride of a wolf_. _They cannot ask for help._  

Hrothgar hesitated.

 

* * *

 

 

**Lucifer is felled – a tragedy in x acts**

**(i)**  

Before Luci was a Morningstar he was a seraph. His spectre was always a goat, exceptionally unusual, but he did not care. Over time his wings multiplied, and on the eve of his four hundredth year he turned from commander to tsar.

He was then visited by an eight-winged stranger, who introduced themselves as ValianceElijah. The swan extended a wing to his goat and he took it. He was then told that he was LuciferElisha, and he was the third most powerful being on Isle. With this power, the Morningstar he would come to know as Vali told him, would come great responsibility. 

And he assumed, as anyone would, that this responsibility would be for life.

 

 

 **(ii)**  

They didn’t unite often. Luci couldn’t even remember when he had last touched Elisha’s woolly red-brown fur, the same colour as his eight resplendent wings. His white face, complete with the crucifix marking on his forehead, and orange eyes were tilted to meet the Morningstar’s. 

 _Weaver,_ Elisha told him gently, _they call Valiance the Weaver, or the Webspinner. He’s made something which cannot be seen, only felt. It envelops us and everything._  

[Tapestry,] he acknowledged internally. [But they haven’t split? EliSif told me, but Elijah would not go gently into the Beyond.] 

_It’s worse than a split. It’s an amputation._

Luci shuddered, his entire body jittering. [How could she..?] 

 _I stood witness._ A pause for a moment, Elisha hesitated then continued without control, like diving off a cliff. _Here._  

The memory struck Luci’s mind like a stone, forceful and angry in the heaviest sad way. He reeled backwards, weighed by this: 

_A swan beating its wings at a Morningstar_

_(adrift in the air, feathers floating carelessly, surrounded by the glowing buzzing humming of magic so ancient even Luci would not be able to control it, like a whirlwind tearing into the suspended figure only Valiance did not shift even slightly but resigned himself to being a ragdoll tossed at the whim of these ancient things – things so powerful Elisha could not halt them or slow them and couldn’t have even if LuciferElisha had been there)_

_Elisha could see how deeply Elijah hurt and how desperate she was to save herself at any cost, to be torn away from that horrific web which caged Valiance away from his spirit._

_And then suddenly stopping the wingbeats to fall into a heap on the floor. Elisha stepping forward to comfort or attempt to comfort and then in her eyes as her long neck curved so her gaze could meet the goat’s: scorn of the most hopeless kind. Something spreading outwards: in the background, some web of indescribable semi-invisible light._

_Then some kind of lurching upwards and Elijah flew straight upwards past the clouds and wind and air until she couldn’t breathe anymore and was so far away from herself that she could almost die of the pain. But the suffocation reached her first, and she accepted it, so surrounded by the blue that she couldn’t see it anymore._

Luci was felled like a tree at the thought, the memory that was _his_. 

[Fuck,] he said from where he had fallen on the ground. 

 _I shielded you for a long time. I’m sorry I couldn’t shield you now._  

Elisha rested his hoof on him. This was self-comforting behaviour and an appreciated assurance that he would not flee as Elijah had. 

[And now? Valiance?] 

 _Vali,_ the goat acknowledged slowly, _is a shell, completely unresponsive. I’m sorry. Worry about the spell. I think it’s doing something to FexorEnoch._

Luci felt sick; to lose one immortal and then the other straight afterwards? They were supposed to be the gods, the three Morningstars, and instead one of them had fucked up the world with Tapestry – a spell with no limitations and an insidious unknown purpose – and was now a vacant shell. He was sick with grief now, useless to those he was supposed to protect, and who knew what had become of FeroxEnoch. 

With a heavy heart he lifted Elisha (this would require his attention in full) and used his eight wings to propel them towards the Fogbound Fort.

 

 

 **(iii)**  

“Enoch!” Elisha practically shouted, “Look at what you’re becoming! Look at Fexor, look at what happened to Elijah!” 

“Chimeras are beautiful, LuciferElisha.” The golden eagle preened her wing, utterly detached. There was no trace of the compassionate Enoch Luci had known before remaining. “We create and we have a goal. We are not your concern.” 

Luci remembered the glimpse he’d had of Fexor, before he had been firmly told by Enoch that Ferox was extremely busy and had no desire to see him ever again. Just through a crack, something horrific, with eight wings acting as limbs to assemble some shapeless thing out of pieces of half-dying screaming things on the floor. There had been a spectre in a cage nearby, completely separated from its other half (if it had been within three miles Luci could have felt it). The magpie looked pained and _bored_ , which was worse than pained because it spoke of how long it had endured that ultimate loneliness that would have ripped most apart. 

Only Luci and Elisha could maintain a coherent self far apart. Only Elisha was the spectre of a member of the aristocracy and not a bird. Only Elisha was a spectre and male. 

Only LuciferElisha remained sane whilst the other Morningstars crashed and burned around them. 

[We need to find out more about Tapestry.] Luci told Elisha privately.  [There’s nothing else to be gained here, let’s go.]

 

 

**(iv)**

 

Luci dreamed of Elijah. She went up to him and extended a wing, dripping with water. He held it and felt warm words flood into him.

 

_construct in madness, absent in mind_

_unbalanced beyond acceptable measure_

_in terms of trust never-endingly blind_

_trapped and misled by their own spectre_

_warriors come and warriors go_

_but only a revenant tends to our woes_  

 

When he woke up he knew that, somehow, he’d uncovered a section of Tapestry.

**(v)**  

[I will fucking save that spectre. I can’t unravel Tapestry, but I can save that one screaming individual. That’s what I can do; that’s what I will do.] 

 _Luci!_ Elisha is desperate. _Turn back – you cannot face your kin. You’re tired and feel defeated, we’ve been at it for too long and given too much, but don’t do something you’ll regret. You know that the fact that I’m – that we’re – warning you away means that this is a terrible mistake._  

And somehow Luci finds it in himself to not care at all. He pushes past the goat in his mind (Elisha is far away anyway, if he tries hard enough he can pretend that he doesn’t even exist) and barrels downwards onto Enoch, swatting her with two of his wings. She flies into the nearest wall. 

 _STOP._ Hits him painfully, the force of his own inner turmoil almost causing him to hesitate. But he pushes past his reluctant goat-spectre to kick the eagle before she can right herself. 

Now Fexor shows himself, and that is enough cause to make Luci hesitate. The rumours of body modification weren’t false (why would he be that lucky, he supposes), and the once-Morningstar now has six arms to accompany eight wings and four legs, his body lumpy and horrifically put-together. In such a short time he has cannibalized himself. [He looks like a fucking tapestry,] Luci thinks, and he is not even that aware that he’s broadcasting the image straight to Elisha. 

He feels the goat wail and that tells him that the feeling swelling around him is grief. 

“FexorEnoch!” He shouts, determined to halt this, halt something, or somehow end fucking Tapestry. 

The abomination makes some sort of sound and Enoch flies onto him, resting upon one of the outthrust arms. “Go now, Lucifer.” She tells him, “For all the love we once bore you.” 

 _Get the fuck out,_ and it occurs to Luci that Elisha is scared for him so he must be scared and if he is scared he should leave, at least to gather his thoughts. He is old enough to recognize when his judgement is clouded emotionally. If he is to free the spectre then he needs to be measured and strategic and at least to have a _plan_. 

Luci turns to go and Fexor rips something through him as he does so, which tears down one side of his wings, mangling them and striking him with unimaginable pain. He gathers himself enough to look at his left side, only to see two wings already detached, one hanging by one tendon, another clearly broken. Then the pain hits him like a wave and he can hear Elisha’s screams join his own through the mental link, and feel him running towards the Morningstar to try help, but knows that the goat is too far away. 

He can feel himself falling unconscious from pain and blood loss. 

[Tapestry ruined all of us.] 

Elisha broadcasts a final message, laden with grief, _Run! You know what this new FexorEnoch will do to you. You cannot become a chimera,no body can contain us but your own._  

He almost manages a step at that, but instead crumples, and his last thought is that Enoch standing over him looks like a vulture.

 

 

**(vi)**

Elisha can’t feel Luci. It has been four days and Luci has either been unconscious for all of it or FexorEnoch found a way to contain him away from his goat spectre. 

He has been travelling for all that time without rest as few are capable of. Now FexorEnoch’s castle is within sight he wonders what he was thinking. There are no allies with him and he is physically weak, blessed with neither the magic nor strength of his counterpart. Any plan should rely on stealth, but with Enoch’s sharp eyes and Fexor’s extra senses they had probably already seen him coming. 

Elisha’s fear is absolute and raw. He will not become like Valiance ~~Elijah~~. He will not allow Luci to live alone, the very thought absolutely destroys him (for his other half to fall apart, for no one to be able to comfort him) and as unlikely as it is he will also not live as the only one who is cognizant. That kind of loneliness should not be endured. 

That fucking compassion was his downfall. Luci had been so utterly determined to liberate the spectre, that magpie. 

There is no one in the doorway so he lets himself tear down every corridor. Most are bloody and squelch in a way that Elisha will not even think about. Luci cannot be down there or Elisha would have ceased. There are piles of pieces everywhere, half-constructed malformed corpses which are empty or abandoned. 

Then he enters a room which contains a pile of dead members of the Aristocracy. They have all been scalped, not a single one has a remaining brain, and he wonders how many live on in other bodies and how many are separate from their spectres. Right in the centre Luci is slumped in the floor, unconscious. 

He is barely breathing, having clearly been drugged. Elisha knows how few poisons there are which could hold a Morningstar down for this long and how rare they are, also how high the risk of catatonia is. But Luci’s back is something which makes him almost grateful for his other half’s absence. 

The gnarled beginnings of eight wings when fitted onto a back no larger than a human’s would always be something monstrous. However with only two wings remaining, the top two on the right side, it is… hideous. There is a mass of scar tissue where the wings had been dug out at root and healed unnaturally quickly, and the remaining rusty orange wings seem broken at an odd angle. 

Elisha throws up, a reaction so physical he doesn’t even know spectres could have it. Then he throws up again and again until Enoch enters the room and even then he can’t speak. 

“We were short on wings. He hurt me.” 

“You-” Elisha can’t gather his thoughts. He lets out a torrent. “You said he could leave! He was going to leave! You’re not fucking Enoch and he’s not Fexor and I will kill you both and then I will kill Valiance and I will end this horrible work you’re doing.” 

“Do you know?” Fexor appears behind Enoch but she speaks. Could Fexor still speak? “We need a spectre as well as the brain to do the transplant.” 

Elisha runs and rams Luci in his tender back with his hard horns. Luci sits up, screaming in pain, and instantly Elisha sends _run, I’ll explain later, fucking run_. 

Luci’s response is to send the wave of nausea, pain, and loss overwhelming him. 

 _Thanks for that._ Elisha says in a way that is supposed to be dry but comes out as shaky and uncertain. _Move!_

Luci staggers forwards, attempting to throw out his wings for balance but instead overbalancing because of the state of his wings, letting out a yell of pain at moving the two broken ones. He crawls forwards instead, screaming loudly into Elisha’s mind, and manages, somehow, to make it to the window. Whatever Tapestry has done to Fexor it has slowed his wits, and although Enoch mobs them Elisha just about manages to deter her. 

Golden eagles are notorious for being proud and strong and able to take on any prey, so it doesn’t surprise Elisha really just how badly she manages to hurt him. He might scar, if Luci does not heal him. 

Luci’s outspread two broken wings on one side make a pitiful attempt to slow their fall from the window, but he manages to master enough magic to lessen the impact. 

But after that the pain from the wings is too much. Elisha can feel him slipping. They’re going to lose and FexorEnoch will get them and- 

 _Use your magic._ Elisha lets the panic and urgency flood his voice. _I know you haven’t practiced in a long time, but you’re not a Tsar or Arch, you’re a Morningstar, teleport us at least to the mountaintop, at least far away, do something-_  

Luci twitches and Elisha sees that they are on the mountaintop, Luci’s mountaintop. But he can also hear a fading, disturbing thought [I’m not even a seraph now…]

 

 

 **(vii)**  

Elisha fetched the Nether Clan; the five of them were eternally loyal to Luci. Now EliSif has healed him and they have all set about binding Luci in a way which will limit the damage the most. ScileAvice flew to find a warlock for help, there were a few around, and they needed as much magical support as possible. 

The goat can feel Luci stirring. He can also feel how close the Morningstar (can he even be called that anymore?) is to breaking, so he scatters the others, asking them to return in a day. 

It is the right decision because only moments after EliSif’s last worried glance Luci wakes up and weeps long and hard. Elisha lets their memories merge, intertwine, and overlap, and then lies down next to him to allow them both to feel whole and safe. Luci’s wings have been reset and healed completely, and despite a slight kink they would be functional if they were not so poorly placed. As is Luci requires magic to walk without overbalancing. 

After a few hours Luci stands, power channelling through him, and in a moment Elisha knows what he’s going to do. He moves to stop him physically, begins formulating the objection to project into the Morningstar’s mind, but Luci is too quick. In one swoop he amputates his last two wings and cauterizes the wounds, diverting other magic to numb the pain. Then he flattens the scars as much as he can, the back is still hideous and malformed, but less so. 

Elisha screams at him, but does not resist when Luci pulls him into an embrace. The last two red right wings lie dismembered on the ground. Absently, the goat wonders if this means that FexorEnoch made a chimera with two left wings. 

Luci stands then, with Elisha at his heels, and with the goat spectre and his back turned away he looks entirely human. The Aristocracy are formed in a lighter way than humans, with higher cheekbones, but it could all be played off as variation. There’s something more worrying than this, however, and Elisha voices it, 

 _We know that your magic is linked to your wings_. 

[It’ll fade,] Luci sounds utterly confident and utterly desolate and utterly empty, [I give it the rest of the day. I will keep the ability to be understood by all and understand all.] 

 _You could have kept it – some of it, perhaps a lesser amount – if you’d kept those two wings._ Elisha can’t help himself even though it hurts him to blame him like that. 

Luci ignores him. [I’m not a Morningstar anymore. I’ve… fallen. And you know what?] His tone grows fierce. [I am still better off than the fucking halfthing Valiance ~~Elijah~~ and the mutant murdering FexorEnoch.] 

This time it’s Elisha who cries. And through the tears he manages to choke out something, a thought, _let’s just go kill fucking Vali._  

Luci nods.

 

 

 **(viii)**  

ScileAvice brings them OberonPenumbra who in turn brings them news of chimeras and an uncomfortable mix of disgust and pity. Luci retains his empath abilities and extended sight. They learn that the magpie detached spectre is called Agrippa, part of CoriolanusAgrippa, and that the other half was once a lord and is now a broken, stumbling thing looking only to reclaim the other part of themself. Worst of all, they remember and they cannot fly, and it reminds them of their own grounded situation. 

Coriolanus travels with some others, Fallandriel who was once a seraph and now has their spectre held within like an animal does, alongside one who is disoriented and not even blessed with equipment to communicate, who is so confused that OberonPenumbra could not even tell if they had a spectre within themself or not. Another also, an unbalanced pair with the spectre dominant, cunning, and angry, and the body compassionate. RevenantWren, but that could not be their full name because Wren was clearly withholding their true name and had baptised Revenant themselves. A seraph had left Oberon’s Citadel to join them – InfidelSuregent. 

 _Revenant_ … it sounds familiar. They push the familiarity aside; LuciferElisha are now determined to confront Valiance ~~Elijah~~ and free Agrippa. Luci thanks OberonPenumbra and they dismiss them, aware that they no longer truly have the status to do so. Then they set out on a walk together, spectre and fallen Morningstar, to reach Valiance ~~Elijah~~ ’s residence. 

It takes them two months, but they get there. Elisha desperately hopes that they will be offered something which they can use to fight FexorEnoch. 

“Vali.” Luci says, standing there besides Elisha, with no wings and no magic, in complete desolate hopelessness. “I know you did this.” 

Valiance’s eyes flicker with what would have once been emotion, but he does not stir to reply. 

Elisha walks forwards and touches the once-Morningstar (eight wings – eight fucking undeserved pale grey wings he would rip from his back and attach to Luci’s if he could) and allows their grief at their mutual loss to flood him. There is grief for Elijah, for what Vali and FexorEnoch once were to them (the only three who never died, bound together for eternity in comradeship), and there is no response whatsoever. 

 _There are no Morningstars left,_ Elisha tells Luci, _FexorEnoch have cannibalized themselves. Valiance ~~Elijah~~ is a halfthing. We have fallen. All of our magic is unreachable, even FexorEnoch have reduced magic anyway. I think that’s what Tapestry is about… not just the extinction of us, but the fall of what we’re guarding. Remember how the mountain lions ruled? This is about the decline of the Aristocracy as the dominant race. FexorEnoch is literally taking it apart._  

Luci looks straight ahead and feels the whorls on his back where wings once were. [Why?]

 _I don’t know, but I’m sure that’s why. I just feel it, maybe from him, maybe some threads of Tapestry are pulling on my mind._ The goat’s gaze shifts onto Valiance. _Should we kill him?_  

[I think it’s better to leave him to rot.] 

 _What if it undid some of Tapestry, or halted it?_  

[What if Tapestry stopped us?] 

The goat paused at that.

 

 

 **(ix)**  

After that LuciferElisha wander together, always, and it was always on foot. Agrippa stirs in the back of their mind from time to time, but their focus is upon Tapestry, learning about it and trying to unravel it or thwart it in some way. 

But losing your wings and identity breaks something, and more often than not they simply walk.

 

 

 **(x)**  

One day Elijah visits Elisha in a dream. It reminds Elisha of when Luci received his fourth pair of wings thousands of years ago and they were taken under ValianceElijah’s wing. Their bond had been close once, although after that they had spent thousands of years apart. He wonders distantly if it dulled the blow of her violent death he was fated to witness. 

Elijah does not speak, not really, but somehow a creeping feeling of discontent flows from her into Elisha. Then she flies away before he can think to speak, and he awakens sweating and scared. 

He almost wakes up Luci, but he is facing the disfigured back, and the weight of the loss crushes him as if it is fresh. When he was young he remembers the other spectres flying and the envy he felt, and then the joy when Luci was larger and could carry him up into the clouds. 

They are together in this, he thinks, and he settles for gently resting a hoof on the mutilated back. _I am here,_ he broadcasts as powerfully as he can without waking Luci, _I’m not going to fly away._


	3. Tapestry & Names & Reuinion & AlabAster

**Tapestry**

 

“Tapestry,” the tall human before them explains, “You’re Revenant.” 

“RevenantAntigone, actually,” Wren intones, “although he goes by Reven and I by Wren. Who are you, anyway?” 

The goat spectre at his feet pulls themself forward. “We are LuciferElisha, once-Morningstar. Oberon told us about your party and then I realized that you were the one I dreamed about. You’re important, Reven, and I can explain why.” 

Cori recoils. “You can’t be LuciferElisha…” but even as they speak they realize that the goat is distinctive, the crucifix on his forehead unique. This is no human, but an utterly crippled Tsar. 

Suddenly Lucifer is fierce. “You want to see?” He growls, and although Elisha pushes himself closer to Lucifer in an unconscious expression of discomfort and fear he lifts the tunic shirt he is wearing, exposing a heavily scarred back with eight unmistakable wing nubs. It’s disgusting and lumpy and tragic to see, and only makes Cori even more aware of their own loss. 

“I’m InfidelSuregent. Tell us what you’ve come to tell us,” Fidel speaks with poorly concealed pity.

For a moment it looks like LuciferElisha will run away, then momentarily as though they will attack, but then he relaxes and begins to speak. “I can tell that you all want to know how this… this befell me. It is of no consequence, but I doubt you care. Your morbid curiosity has been piqued and now you’ll want to hear the story.” Cori can tell that the anger is hiding grief over a loss that thousands of years could not compensate for, and they mourn for LuciferElisha. 

Elisha takes over, and he is far calmer than Lucifer. “Valiance ~~Elijah~~ is now just Valiance, as I am sure you are aware. Elijah tore herself away from him and perished, I saw it, as the result of an incredibly powerful spell Valiance was casting. We do not know everything about that spell, but it’s called Tapestry. You may have heard of it. 

“To think about Tapestry you have to think about the present as being woven by a loom, each small event contributing in a flow towards the cloth that is the world and past. Tapestry plucks at individual threads, often very indirectly, and changes events in very small ways in order to create the bigger picture Vali,” for a second the goat looks taken aback by the familiar nickname that slips out, but then he continues as though it had never happened, “was aiming for. I don’t know how Valiance ~~Elijah~~ intended to achieve their goal, or if they specified anything, or if perhaps what I’m seeing as the overall goal is only part of a smaller section of some massive intent, but right now all I know is that he intended to destroy the aristocracy. Valiance ~~Elijah~~ effectively perished in the initial casting of the spell, FexorEnoch is utterly insane and have cannibalized themself, and Luci… well he…” 

Elisha can’t say what happened to them and instead starts shaking. Lucifer picks him up and no one can object to the behaviour. They need whatever comfort they can get. 

“I had a dream,” Lucifer continues, “In which I was visited by Elijah. She told me a rhyme, I can’t quite remember all of it, but it mentioned a construct being manipulated by their spectre and only ‘a revenant’ being able to save the Aristocracy. Surely this means you. But I don’t understand why… you were just a seraph…” 

Then Elisha starts and Lucifer looks down in sudden realization, locking eyes with his spectre. 

“You, Antigone, you remember some of your past. I can tell. How old were you when FexorEnoch took your life away?” 

Wren hesitated. “I don’t mind you preserving the aristocracy, but I will not do anything to help Fexor.” 

Lucifer is sad and angry and glorious, even with no wings. “If it is ever within my power I will kill FexorEnoch where they fucking stand. He’s the one who did this to me.” 

“We were very young, only seventy.” Wren tells LuciferElisha, comforted by their hatred. 

“You were a seraph but you would not have remained a seraph. There is enormous strength within you, masked and misdirected somewhat because of your unbalanced split, but in time you would have become an arch, and if history had continued as it was from there you would have become a Morningstar.” 

Reven is shocked and Wren’s own surprise is potent enough to burst through the wall separating their minds. 

“Fexor did this.” Wren snarls, angry and confused, “He took away the magic we would have had, ended our potential. I will slay him.” 

“What FexorEnoch has been moulded into by Tapestry is something horrifying and he has committed many crimes, but I ask you to focus on the bigger picture.” 

“He took Agrippa.” Cori cannot restrain themself. 

“I was an osprey!” Wren adds, voice tainted with despair. 

“I don’t even know who I am.” Falla is, as always, soft. 

Wight clicks, which dwarfs everyone’s loss, and Reven lays a bird claw on top of their foot to comfort them. 

The goat is then soft and compassionate. “Two of you are missing spectres. We will free them, but we ask you to focus on finding out as much about Tapestry as you can. I’ve met Oberon, it’s within his power to tell you who you were in your past lives, and he is likely next in the firing line of Tapestry. You should go back to him and continue the quest there. The way FexorEnoch are continuing… they will self-destruct.” 

“You can find my spectre?” Falla asks, “I thought they were within me.” 

“They are. Once I could have told you about them, but now…” 

“Who else is missing a spectre, then?” Cori looks confused. 

Wight clicks. 

“This one, here. Now I’ve seen their soul I will be able to recognize their spectre.” 

“We know nothing about Wight and sometimes I feel like we don’t treat them as well as we should, is there anything you could..?” Reven asks. 

Lucifer obliges. “Wight, as you call them, is only semi-lucid. They understand high celestial, so they don’t understand Revenant and…” Lucifer looks at Falla, “They are intelligent but always scared and their mind is in utter disarray, with memories from all time floating and no order. I think if they had a spectre the spectre could at least talk, and their lucidity would improve. Fexor has ruined them, and once I could have restored them but now you’ll have to employ Oberon.” 

“There’s something else,” Fidel adds, “Oberon doesn’t want us there. He intends to avoid Fexor.” 

Elisha flicks his stubby tail in irritation. “FexorEnoch is the correct way to address them. Enoch has always been the better half, don’t exclude her. Tell Oberon that we order him as a fallen Morningstar, even now it should carry some weight. Otherwise tell him that he’s next in line to fall victim to Tapestry. Either works.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Names**

 

“I’m half of AntiGone,” Wren tells Reven, “Once the spectre was Gone, but I’m not the spectre anymore. What’s more is that you’re not the other half, not anymore.”

 “I don’t feel much like Revenant,” Reven struggles to explain, “I am Reven. Revenant was a name I was given, and it’s all about someone else’s, or some other part of myself, and their desires and goals. I forged and chose Reven for myself. I’m someone new.”

 “We should have a true name, as an individual. We’re not AntiGone anymore, and RevenantAntigone is also not our identity.”

 “RevenWren?”

 “Wren isn’t my name. I feel like… Eona. It borrows its letters from AntiGone.”

 “RevenEona?”

 “EonaReven.”

 It’s unconventional, to have the spectre’s name first, but Reven isn’t really surprised and doesn’t really mind.

 -

 “You…” Oberon says, looking at Falla, “Once went by MnemoSyne. Your spectre, Syne, was a kingfisher. That one… Wight, you call them, was LetheCirrus, the spectre Cirrus a hen harrier. They are still missing; Wight is not complete like Fallandriel is.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Reuinion**

 

Two seraphs flew overhead with a humanoid hanging between them, a lord behind carrying a goat. The three expected spectres accompanied them (song thrush, swallow, peregrine falcon), but there were two additional birds in the flock (magpie, hen harrier). Cori began shaking and Wight clicked, possibly louder than they had ever clicked before. 

Reven recognized the figure between the seraphs as Lucifer and the goat as Elisha, although he had never seen any of the others before. 

 _That’s Agrippa,_ Wren told him, and he froze in place. 

“I’ve never met a spectre who identifies as male before Elisha in all my years of living,” Lucifer spoke gently to Wight, “But Cirrus is a beautiful first.” 

The pale grey bird’s beautiful yellow eyes widen as he collides with Wight. Reven imagines that they are talking rapidly internally. 

Coriolanus is crying and Agrippa grips their ruff, burrowing in. They will never part. 

“These are members of the Mountain Clan, who were once my disciples. This is EliSif, AlabAster, and ScileAvice.” Elisha says. “They helped us get here more quickly. Let this sign of goodwill be proof enough that I desire no more than the downfall of FexorEnoch. Now you call all focus on unravelling Tapestry before it’s too late.” 

“We’re still his disciples,” Alab, a stocky lord with four brown wings chuckles, “But it was no small task to free those two. We suffered no casualties, but only because of careful planning and execution.” 

Reven is eternally glad that LuciferElisha have a place in the world still, even after having fallen.

 

* * *

 

 

**AlabAster**

 

Ever since his fall LuciferElisha had spent the majority of both of their time in Netherdread Fort, the home of the mountain clan most clearly affiliated with them. It was a large adjustment for Alab, the staunch traditionalist, who had seen wings as the purest status symbol and respected Lucifer for his status as a Tsar. Fallen Lucifer did not easily slide into categories, by some definitions he was not even a member of the Aristocracy at all anymore, and Alab’s position as dominant was now poorly defined. There was no shame in bowing to a Tsar, but whatever Lucifer was now held no place in the complex politics of the Aristocracy. 

Despite Alab’s rule all other clan members had no issue with taking Lucifer in; by contrast they seemed to prefer the intimacy over the previous teacher-pupil relationship. He had even encouraged ScileAvice and EliSif to call him Luci as the other Morningstars had and Elisha still did, something which it was clear he also extended to the others. Only ScileAvice had taken him up on the offer. 

Alab got on better with Elisha. The goat was more realistic and practical, or at least did not quite suffer the same melancholy taciturn mood swings that Lucifer did. He seemed to accept their life more and be almost the less transparently unhappy of the two despite his status as spectre, something that would have been surprising if not for his obvious unorthodoxy. 

The issue that Alab had was that LuciferElisha was, for almost all intents and purposes, human. They possessed no magic ever since they had severed those last two wings and Elisha was not even a bird, the usual sign of the Aristocracy. All Lucifer maintained was his language abilities and some of his supernatural perception and sight, as well as the loyalty of most of his followers. 

Aster, Alab’s spectre, was more compassionate. But whilst the wizard respected her he still pushed her thoughts aside when it suited him, and her chirruping protests were little more than a whine at the back of his mind. 

She was flying in a wide circle above his head as suited her swallow form when LuciferElisha, in their entirety, reached the top of the staircase and began to approach him. 

“AlabAster.” Elisha acknowledged. It was rude for the spectre to speak first when the other was not present, and Aster was fairly distant, but Elisha was so different from most spectres that the almost-insult barely registered. 

“LuciferElisha.” Aster perched on the edge of one of Alab’s wings to reply, as was customary. Alab missed Lucifer’s eyes flicker in pain as they lighted on the wing. 

“Forgive me, but SterlIng told me than recently you have been withdrawn. Your mate fears that my presence here is not as welcome as I had believed.” Lucifer addressed Alab. 

Alab wondered if it was worth trying to explain, but every time he looked at Lucifer he just saw the empty space around him where grand wings once hung and Aster became so distressed that he couldn’t tell Lucifer he wanted him to leave. But he couldn’t say that he didn’t either; it would be lying, Lucifer would be able to tell, and perhaps most of all it would reduce the chance of the pair of them to actually go. 

After a long silence, interrupted only by Aster’s restless short flights around before coming back to rest on Alab’s shoulder, Elisha spoke up, “It’s hard for you. We see that now. We will go if you want us to.” 

But they offered no peace for Aster that leaving would be acceptable for them, just that they would. Alab wanted to tell them to leave, but he knew that Aster would say stay at the same exact moment. She flew rapidly around his head, betraying his inner turmoil, which further increased it because even if LuciferElisha could _see_ his emotions this level of visual poor self-control was shameful. 

“We’ll be passing in and out, all you need to do is ask and we’ll never return again.” Lucifer told AlabAster with a small smile, and left. 

As soon as he was out of sight Alab threw his four wings out and dived off the edge of the tower, already feeling the wind under Aster’s wings.


	4. Cirrus & Wolves 2 & ValianceElijah

**Cirrus**

 

Reven lagged behind, weighed down by Cirrus on his back. Wren led the party, as usual. The hen harrier was heavy, so heavy that he would overbalance Wight if he rested on their horns; this was Reven’s shift to carry him. 

In front of them Wight teetered and toppled, emitting the rapid clicking noises Reven had decided must have represent stress. They rapidly propelled themselves back onto two legs and continued stumbling onwards. 

“Why do they walk on their hind legs?” Reven asked Cirrus absently, “they’re not built for it.” 

“Wight considers the ground to be made of beetles, all crawling, which they don’t want to crush.” 

Reven flinched. “But you don’t see..?” 

“I maintain a wall so their taint doesn’t flow into my mind. It’s exhausting and ineffective.” 

He thought briefly about the massive bisecting slab which shut him from Wren’s mind, and wondered if they were truly that different. 

“They don’t understand you, you know.” Cirrus said suddenly. “They don’t understand anyone, even though they technically speak high celestial. I have to communicate with them in pure intent, feelings, and images. I’m the dominant and lucid one, and spectres were never designed for this weight. We’re supposed to be honest and pure.” 

Almost unconsciously, both of them turned to look at Wren. 

Reven shrugged. “It’s always different with chimeras. Falla doesn’t even have a spectre.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Wolves Revisited**

 

Cori fluffed up their fur and raised their head, tail swinging (thick, bristling, angry). Agrippa dug her claws into their head. Wight clicked and faltered to their feet whilst Cirrus balanced on their shoulder with his wings outstretched fully, increasing their combined size and looking predatory. Wren sought cover behind Reven’s ruff to escape their notice, always cunning and plotting, whilst Fidel uncertainly raised his wings. Regent was nowhere near large enough to create the regal impression of a lord, but nonetheless she spread her wings out also. 

Falla pressed against Cori’s leg. 

And Reven stood there in front, uncertain whether he was being brave or stupid. _Both_ , Wren told him. 

The wolves circled them, snarling. Cori had warned them that this area was famous for its savagery, especially now in fall of all seasons when the wolves would be in retreat, and the Dog-Stag War raged out of control. 

“They have horns,” hissed a COLOURHERE wolf. “Too similar to deer.” 

“See here.” Regent commanded, bolder than Fidel ever would. “I am a member of OberonPenumbra’s Clan. The warlock. He will avenge me by smiting you into the ground.” 

The wolf opened its mouth into a lolling and frothing grin. “Haven’t you heard? The Aristocracy is losing ground. You fall so we can rise.” 

“Sirius DogStar owes me a debt.” Cori said unfalteringly. “Let us pass and I will consider it paid.” 

Wolves took two names, the second a compound word. It was generally considered to be formed from longing for a spectre of their own. Reven wondered if Falla should change her name to that convention. 

Did wolves lack spectres completely, were they missing something others held, or were they internal like Falla’s was? The discrimination against them as soulless seemed baseless. 

Reven looked at Cori through Wren’s eyes, wondering what they were thinking. Whatever Sirius DogStar had been indebted to, it had looked nothing like Cori did now. Then again, they now had Agrippa… 

Cirrus withdrew their wings and alighted to the ground. The physical closeness would only be too much if Wight was suffering an episode. Now was not the time.

 

* * *

 

 

**Luci revisits Vali**

****

The way the figure gripped his spectre’s horn in hand instantly told Eleanora everything she needed about this individual. That kind of constant contact with one’s self was held only by the severely traumatized and unstable, she had only observed it before in victims of sexual assault. Søren, her pine marten spectre, scuttled closer to her (although they did not touch, she did not want them to see that she was afraid). 

They turned slightly and she caught a glimpse of high and fragile features set in an impassive face, framed by uncombed orange hair. The delicacy and paleness of his features made him look more angel than man, but as her eyes trailed down she saw suddenly that his feet were feathered and clawed. 

“What…” she let the question trail off, aware that he (they? weren’t angels sensitive about pronouns or something) wouldn’t speak her language. She had never come into contact with another human who spoke High Celestial, and no angel lowered themselves to Earthentongue. 

Her eyes drew to the spectre, definitely a goat, so surely he couldn’t be an angel? A half-breed? 

He scowled at her entrance slightly and then, hand still firmly gripping the goat’s horn, turned back to the kneeling four-winged figure in front of him. He kicked the slumped angel brutally, but they only swayed in response. It was like they weren’t there. 

“There are no answers here.” The reddish-brown goat said quietly, intending for only its body to hear. “So why do you keep coming back?” 

For a moment the angel stood, still looking at her, eyes occasionally glancing to Søren, and she felt like there was something lacking here. Would this be when he would have raised his wings? 

“I’m LuciferElisha.” He said politely. 

“I’m EleanoraSøren.” She replied, shocked to be able to understand him. “You speak Earthentongue?” 

“Haven’t you heard of me?” 

She paused, thrown off. “Are you a famous angel?” 

“I’m hardly a member of the aristocracy at all.” 

“Aristocracy?” 

He paused and looked closer at her. “You don’t know much about the Arist- angels, do you?” 

“I’ve only seen you… them before three times.” 

He snorted. “Then it’s hardly worth explaining.” 

Søren stepped forwards. “I’d appreciate it if you did.” 

The goat snapped a reply, apparently angered by the break of etiquette of the spectre joining the conversation. “Used to have eight wings, now have none. I’m a goat, I go by he/him, and that’s just how I am.” 

 “No way. Angels have two wings.” 

 “Look at the figure before me. Anyway, I’m not an angel. I was a Morningstar and now I’m nothing. It hardly matters. What are you doing in this place, EleanoraSøren?” 

She shrugged. “I’m looking for somewhere to live and no one comes within a mile of this old fort.” 

“Take my advice and find somewhere else. The only reason you also weren’t repelled is because you’re a human with no mystical sense, but this place is a scar on the magical fabric of reality. Long-term living here wouldn’t affect Søren well. Just being here pains me.” 

Eleanora cocked her head. “Then why are you here?” 

He laughed, deeply, but the goat replied. “We’re here because this comatose bastard is the one who took our wings, and we just can’t seem to move past that.” 

“Revenge?” 

“It’s too late for that. We couldn’t do anything worse to him than what he did to himself.” 

“Closure?” 

“There’s no rational reason why we come back here. It will never give us closure.” 

She changed path. “What did he do?” 

“He cast a spell so strong that it ripped his spectre from his body and sent her flying into the sky until she suffocated.” 

Søren flinched. “W-what did it do?” 

Lucifer smiled. “I don’t know. I have no fucking idea. Something to do with crushing the aristocracy beneath his fucking hypocritical foot, some kind of sick self-mutilation which eventually creeped up to me and took my flight, my everything. I’m supposed to be trying to stop it, but it’s hardly my responsibility. I’m no longer some magic and powerful guardian with the power to protect; now I’m a human with a few perks and no responsibility.” 

“So why are you trying?” 

He shrugged. “I doubt anyone else will, and the only other with the ability is a chimera and far less organized and obliged than I.”


	5. OberonPenumbra and Fallandriel

**OberonPenumbra**

 

Penumbra shifted besides the fire, her head caught in the bright light. Oberon kept to the shadows, watching Elisha warily. It almost made him laugh, how carefully they regarded him, now of all times. Luci would have bared his teeth at that, but Elisha’s were no threat. His strength wasn’t in this small goat body. Perhaps it wasn’t anywhere now. 

 “Tapestry.” Penumbra hummed, an inquiry. 

The etiquette, that OberonPenumbra still spoke to him through their spectre despite Luci’s absence, grated at him. He gave them no response. 

“You said you had progress?” Penumbra eventually forced. 

Elisha shrugged, looking deep into the flames. Once, Luci had been able to conjure and control fire easily. “We have an idea.” 

“And what is it?” 

“Risky.” 

“You know that’s not what I’m asking.” 

Elisha stretched. “Vali wove Tapestry almost independently from Elijah, just drawing on magical strength from their bond. The assumption is that if he could make it then he could also unmake it.” 

Penumbra looked at him closely. “You said Valiance ~~Elijah~~ was a catatonic halfthing.” 

“FexorEnoch’s latest chimera is a human with the spectre of a Lord.” 

“That’s impossible.”

“It happened. We’ve seen it. FexorEnoch’s perversions are going deeper and deeper into exploring the nature of reality and they have evidently found a way to assign one individual’s spectre to another, and with that we can hope to bring Vali back enough that he can unweave tapestry.” 

“What… you’d convince Fexor to take someone’s spectre and just… give it to Valiance?” 

“There are issues here.” Elisha acknowledged. “Only two spectres possess the necessary parts to be eligible for Vali’s replacement in the whole of isle, myself and Wren, that chimera’s spectre. The last time we tried to negotiate with FexorEnoch we fell, we have no idea how to make them do what we want. Even if we managed to make that part succeed, we would still have to convince Vali that unweaving Tapestry is the best option, and even then he might be unable to because he lacks materials and Elijah. And,” the goat’s head twitched, like he was trying not to look away. “Whichever spectre we offer to Vali will likely die, and the body will be left in that comatose state Vali inhabits now. There is a chance of rejection. Even if the spectre survives they will have to live with an unfamiliar half, which would leave Vali alive with time to reconsider Tapestry.” 

Oberon shifted in the background. “Will it be you or Wren?” 

“Probably me.” Elisha confessed. “Luci doesn’t like the plan. He wants it to be Wren, thinks we still have a place in this world. That’s why we split apart on this occasion.” 

“And your first step is… negotiating with Fexor?” 

“Yes. I’ve thought about it, and FexorEnoch will use anyone we send in as components unless they’ve already been… constructed. We need to send in a lucid chimera with the capability for negotiation, and I think I’ve chosen the one.” 

“RevenWren… RevenantAntigone?” 

Elisha shifted uncomfortably. “No, although they use the name EonaReven.” 

Oberon cringed. “Sorry.” 

“Wren hates FexorEnoch too much. CoriolanusAggrippa does not seem to be a finished creation. WightCirrus is not lucid, and that leaves…” 

“The one with the internal spectre?” 

“Yes. She’s a cohesive, complete individual which FexorEnoch remade from scratch. FexorEnoch will not tamper or remake her. We’ll send her with that clan of chimeras and the seraph, but leave the others some distance from the fortress.” 

“And, you think that’s wise?” 

Elisha shrugged. “I don’t see much damage being done.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Fallandriel**

 

The goat with the crucifix had told her that she had to go in and talk to her maker. Ask for a spell, the details of which had been poured into her brain like molten gold, gleaming. Wren and Cori had been left behind at Oberon’s Citadel, both too angry to be allowed near Fexor, but the kindly lords had teleported WIghtCirrus and InfidelSuregent nearby for moral support. But she had to do this alone. 

The entrance was wide. She recalled the legends she had heard, cruel tales of Fexor’s excess limbs they manually grafted onto themselves. She shuddered. 

“FexorEnoch?” She called, gently. “It’s one of your creations, come to ask a favour.” 

There was a flutter of wings (too many – too many -) before the bulk fell before her. Too many limbs, those regal Morningstar wings, countless gleaming eyes poured onto a skull and a mouth twisted to accommodate them. This thing – her maker – made a noise. A raw coughing crow, birdlike. 

A golden eagle landed before her. Enoch, the goat had told her this was the one she was to talk to. They must be still lucid like Cirrus was, even when Wight had his moments. 

“What do you want, chimera?” The eagle asked, voice harsh. 

This part was half a script she had been forced to memorize. “I wanted to thank you for making me and giving me such a beautiful shape.” The words sounded stunted and fake, even to her. “And I wondered how you felt about… Tapestry and how things have been going lately.” 

“Elisha’s words.” Enoch hissed, fluffing up her feathers. The shapeless thing that was Fexor emitted a groan. “Talk to me on your own terms, Fallandriel.” 

She flinched at her name. “I’ve come to ask for a service that will result in the cessation of Tapestry.” 

“Why should we want Tapestry to end?” She crowed. “Look at what it has made us: an ascended form, the most powerful witch in the land. We’re beyond a Morningstar, we’re bending reality just like Valiance did.” 

“You wouldn’t lose any of that with the dissolution of Tapestry.” Falla pleaded. “It would just give you free will again. You would have a wider range to use your powers in.” 

“Perhaps. What is required of us?” 

“You… can… bond one spectre to another’s body?” 

“Yes. It is our latest in a long line of achievements.” 

Falla felt ill. “We want you to give Elisha… or Wren… to Valiance so he can undo his spell.” 

Fexor made some noises which Enoch listened to with a cocked head. Then she spoke. “The small bird, the one which escaped the body, that is Wren?” 

Falla nodded. 

“These are our terms: we will use Wren and then we will take LuciferElisha to be remade into our own form. They have to most beautiful clay.”


End file.
